


Coincidence

by justhuman



Category: Angel: the Series, The X-Files
Genre: Community: winter_of_wes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-11
Updated: 2005-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhuman/pseuds/justhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agents Scully and Mulder come to California to investigate. What are the chances that Dana would run into Wesley over coffee? AtS Season 5, post-Lineage. X-files, think season 2/3 when Mulder and Scully were da Team; before Scully was abducted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coincidence

8:22 am, Los Angeles, California

Dana Scully was willing to admit that she had a strange relationship with _coincidence_. As a scientist and a law enforcement officer, she had a deep-seated prejudice against the idea of random events converging, because typically they didn't around crime scenes. However, since she had been partnered with Mulder, more often then not she heard herself calling out in all exasperation, "It's probably coincidence!"

What she didn't expect was that the man one spot ahead of her in line might shout the same thing into his cell phone at the same time she was shouting into hers. For a moment they both froze and looked at each. Forgetting Mulder for a moment, and wishing that she could do it for a week or two, Dana gave the man with the beautiful blue eyes a smile. He smiled back, and then with he politely nodded and turned away a bit.

English. His accent was English, but not nearly as heavy as the Englishmen that she had met back in DC. Probably a long time resident whose accent was slowly fading into the California landscape. What gave him away wasn't so much the sound but the phrases-- _as_ instead of _since_ and _meant to _instead of _supposed to_. __

Mulder was talking to her.

"Yes. I'm sorry; it's crowded in here...Java Junkie. Okay, so if I heard you right, you're two hours north, in the dessert." Dana paused and frowned.

"Caving into the overpriced designer labeled coffee? Look, I just needed some coffee- ... No, you won't find me in an oxygen bar, enjoying a wheat grass smoothy when you get back."

Pursing her lips, Dana shifted her weight to one leg but resisted the urge to plant a hand on her hip. Her companion on line was rubbing his forehead; it didn't look like he was having much luck in his phone conversation either.

"Really Angel, I don't think an occasional _yuppie_ coffee is succumbing to the corporate lifestyle." Their eyes met again and he unabashedly began looking at Dana from head to toe. It should have made her uncomfortable, but instead it set her on edge in a good way. "Angel, I can assure you that if corporate life was going to seduce me, it would come in a tailored suit and not a paper cup."

Dana smiled at the man and then cringed. "Mulder, have you ever tasted the swill that comes out of the coffee pot they leave in your hotel room? It was just easier to go to the mall under the hotel and grab something--much closer then say driving two hours from the hotel. What are you doing there and should I assume that you have the rental car?"

A litany began in her ear about towns being swallowed up and some lunatic fringe forming a shantytown around the rim. Keywords were sinking in, but Dana was too busy checking out the Englishmen, liking the fit of his pants, and the way he moved forward in line with a casual grace. His own conversation involved monosyllables like, _yes_ , _no_ and _but_ with the occasional eye rolling. Unexpectedly, he took a step back, so they were closer.

Dana could feel the heat rise to her checks. It was like his eyes were actually touching her, and Dana could feel her body responding to the not unwelcome attention.

During all this, Mulder continued to talk, and Dana basically continued not to hear until something pinged.

"Mulder, not everything is a conspiracy."

"Really, Angel, it is _not_ a conspiracy."

Coincidence. When coincidence went your way, when it made connections they called it serendipity. It was a little new-agey for Dana, but it meant that the Englishman might ask her out to lunch, or better, dinner. If that happened, she'd be willing to call it anything

Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, the man pulled out a business card. Dana smiled as she fished around in her bag for a pen, but then Mulder pinged into her consciousness again.

"Yes! After I get my coffee, I'm going to go take care of the bodies."

The Englishman paused and blinked.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This wouldn't be the first potential date that dissolved because of her job.

"I mean, I'll be heading straight to the morgue." Dana closed her eyes and sighed, imagining exactly how much that would help. She tried again. "I should have the bulk of the pathology reports this afternoon."

His face contorted, and Dana felt her spirits sink through the floor.

"Angel, why are you so surprised to find a weapons locker? They didn't hide it from you; it was on the tour when we took over the management."

Arms dealer? Terrorist? Suddenly Dana was feeling annoyed with herself for being embarrassed by her job and a little pissed that it looked like work was going to start without her coffee.

"Mulder, hold on."

Red faced, he gestured at the phone and scribbled on the back of the card. With a helpless shrug handed it to Dana.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Director of Research  
Wolfram & Hart, Attorneys at Law

On the back was _private investigator_.

With a sigh, Dana nodded and put her phone to her ear. "Sorry about that. It's my turn to order, so I'll call you back later." Hitting the end button, she shrugged as he took a look at the fifteen people in front of then and raised his eyebrows.

"Angel, as fascinating as this conversation is, I'm afraid that it will have to wait until I'm in the office." He paused, obviously listening. "I'm afraid I'm still across town." He wrapped up his call and tucked the phone back into his jacket.

Peering suspiciously between the address on the card card and the man, Dana said. "If I'm not mistake, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, your offices are within a few blocks and not on the other side of LA."

"Wesley, please. The offices are across the street, actually. It would seem that the only conspiracies this morning involve, ending tedious phone conversations, and perhaps the one that prevents me from knowing your name."

Extending her hand, Dana decided that flirting in a coffee shop with a man working on his James Bond credentials wasn't a half-bad way to start the day. "Dana Scully."

"My pleasure." His grip was firm and warm in her hand. "I beg your pardon for my unintentional eavesdropping, but as I understand it, you're a pathologist traveling on business. That's rather unusual, isn't it?"

"I could say the same for a private investigator who happens to be the director of research at a law firm. I work for the FBI; forensic pathology is my specialty." This was the make or break moment in most conversations. She had considered speed dating, because in seven minutes it would be fairly easy to weed out guys who were uncomfortable with women cops that worked with the dead.

Wesley didn't even bat an eye. "Wolfram & Hart has developed a specialty of dealing with antiquities and ancient text, thus my role. As for the private investigations, let's say that before one can find the secrets in an ancient text, sometimes one must find them."

"Does that make you Indiana Jones?"

"That depends, which answer will make you agree to have dinner with me tonight."

"I...." She stopped herself from rushing in, because that was her own MO, not grabbing the brass ring until she had done some simple metallurgical tests. She really hated this about herself sometimes. I should concentrate on work. I should track down Mulder. I should have asked out him because I'm an independent woman that is capable of doing these things. I should feel guilty that I like it better that he asked me first.

Placing his hands primly behind his back, Wesley leaned in closer to her. "I should warn you that room service is awful. The horrid coffee pot in your room is just the tip of the iceberg."

Dana couldn't help but smile. "Really. I was under the impression that the hotel restaurant had four stars."

Wesley cringed, dramatically. "I couldn't let you settle for a paltry four when this city is full of five star restaurants."

The man behind Dana cleared his throat loudly. The line had moved up and they hadn't moved. Wesley tossed the man a glare and held out his hand so that she could precede him and move up a space in line.

"I'm told that it's always better to have a local guide. I'm not sure how late I might be working tonight. It would have to be fairly late."

"Late hours are not an issue at all."

They had reached the counter and Dana ordered her latte. Wesley piped up with his order and handed the woman behind the counter money for both orders.

"You didn't have to," Dana protested

"I wanted to," Wesley smiled.

***

"We've got an issue with some clients." Gunn opened up the folder on the conference table before sitting back in his chair.

"What kind of problem?" Angel took a sip of his blood and frowned at the cup.

Pointing a the cup with his pen, Gunn asked, "Something wrong with your O-positive?"

"Yes. Apparently the assistant substituting for Harmony doesn't know the right blend of otter to put in." Wesley sat back, savoring his coffee, thankful that he and Angel had already had this conversation and that it had ultimately led him into a date.

A date--he really hadn't had one since Virginia. There had been various one-night stands but they didn't count. He supposed that the average person might have considered his time with Lilah as dates, but since they had never actually went out in public, Wesley was reluctant to give it that name. He didn't think she would appreciate it either.

Dana was from out of town, so he would have a night or two in her company, dinner, pleasant conversation and there was always the chance that he might get lucky. In the end, it didn't matter whether he was or not. This was an experiment, time with a beautiful stranger, no strings attached. After the incident with the robot, Wesley had come to some conclusions about his behavior towards Fred. Trying to interact with new people would be a good idea.

Gunn snorted. "Look at you getting soft. I remembering you drinking week-old pig, straight from the fridge."

"I do not miss Harmony, and do you want to reconsider that soft comment?" Angel took a big swig from the mug.

"Perhaps we should discuss the issue involving our client." Wesley interjected, trying to focus on the matter at hand and not his upcoming date.

Shuffling some papers, Gunn dived in. "Our client, the Sharton of Kir, has a problem with trespassers on his mining operation."

"What's he mining?" Wesley asked.

"Sunnydale."

Both Wesley and Angel turned to him.

"He wants the hellmouth, doesn't he?" The look in Angel's eyes did not bode well for the Sharton of Kir.

"Actually, he's laying claim to the whole town. Apparently the previous tenets left behind tons of magical and charmed equipment, just waiting to be excavated."

Angel rubbed his brow. "Somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

"Yes," Wesley agreed. "The potential under that crater would be dangerous in the wrong hands."

"I hear you, and actually, it's why we should be on the Sharton's side. He doesn't keep any of the stuff, and Wolfram & Hart have first shot at buying anything he digs up. Anyone else has control..." Gunn trailed off, turning up his hand and spreading them helplessly.

"The lesser of evils." Angel sighed. "Have I ever mentioned how much I don't like that phrase? All right, so who's creating waves?"

"Not a hundred percent sure." Pulling some photos and paper work, Gunn spread them across the table. There were two dead teenaged boys in the photos. Based on the angles, they were crime scene shots.

Gunn continued. "As soon as the dust settled on the crater, a whole bunch of people started showing--psychics, mediums, the works."

"What a surprise," Wesley grumbled as he took a closer look at the burn wounds in the photos.

"The Shartan has been getting along with them, putting on an occasional light show to keep them entertained."

Angel tossed a photo towards the center of the table. "He's using them as cover, trying to make the world write off the place."

Gunn nodded. "Except that somebody else is interested in the crater and has been taking out the humans in the Sunnydale East; they set up a big camp ground on the eastern edge of the crater."

Standing up, Angel shrugged. "It doesn't sound like a big deal. We find the trespassers, get rid of them and things go back to normal."

"In general, yes, but there is one more catch." Gunn opened a second folder, revealing the pictures of a man and a lovely red-haired woman.

Sighing, Wesley pushed his coffee towards the middle of the table. "Let me guess, the FBI has been called in to investigate."

Gunn frowned. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"There are no coincidences." Wesley sighed. "I bought the FBI pathologist coffee about an hour ago. We're having dinner tonight."

"Don't you hang out with the dead enough at work?"

"Hey!" Angel came back to the table, glaring at Gunn. Sitting down, he turned towards Wesley. "Okay so this guy is in town to autopsy the bodies. He's not out at the crime scene. And you're dating a guy?"

" _She_ ," Wesley corrected. "She's in town to perform the autopsy. Her partner, however, is apparently two hours into the desert."

"You've got a date with a chick that works with the dead?" Gunn frowned, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Gunn, you could let dead part go," Angel said, "And it's not a date. It's not a date, right?"

Wesley glared at the two of them. "It's a date. Really, I do find occasions to have a social life without the two of you."

"All right," said Angel, "It's still good. It's not like the government believes in demons. They'll do their autopsies, question some people, no big deal."

"Agent Scully," Gunn tapped Dana's picture, "might go along with that plan. Her partner, Agent Mulder, he believes in UFOs and makes a practice of taking on every cracktastic case in the FBI."

"I'll see what I can find out tonight." Sighing, Wesley sat back, looking forlornly at his coffee, which was quickly becoming cold.

***

Having shaved off the day's stubble and changed into a suit that would match the formality of her attire that morning, Wesley had picked Dana promptly at seven. As promised, he had reservations at a high-end restaurant, but not one that would require black tie or eveningwear. The drive had been short, and he had been able to fill the time by playing tourist guide.

Over wine, they started to get to know one another. "You've been in California for quite a while. Do you plan to stay or eventually go back to England?" Dana ran her fingers delicately down the stem of her wing glass.

Caught off guard by the question, Wesley took a sip of his wine. "I hadn't actually given it much thought. California is wonderful in its own way. I think that I might like to live in Europe again, but perhaps not England. What about you? You're job could take you anywhere in the country I would guess."

Sipping her wine, Dana shrugged. "My family's near DC and I have an assignment where I get to travel. I'm a navy brat though; my family moved all over when I was a kid. Depending on promotions and opportunities that came up, I could see myself moving at some point."

The waiter arrived with appetizers and refilled their wine. Once they had settled into a shared platter of cold seafood, Wesley thought that he should start asking some questions; however, he found himself enjoying just watching her eat. Forkfuls of crab and shrimp slid past her slightly parted lip and while she had probably not intended it to be sensual, Wesley was finding it so.

He had researched her and her partner during the day. It had been a type of voyeurism that he thought he should feel guilty about--personnel records, hospital records. There were other records that he couldn't lay his hands on that had mystical ties; however, based on the track record of Agent Mulder, Wesley could only guess that they had no real ties to the mystical world and were trying to find them. This was obviously not the right kind of situation for them to be involved and it was exactly the type of situation they wouldn't drop.

"Wolfram & Hart is a large corporation."

Wesley sputtered. "Sorry?"

"Wolfram & Hart is large. My partner recognized the name when I spoke with him this afternoon. Apparently they have quite the reputation in certain circles."

Wesley thought that that might have been the most circumspect description that he had ever heard, considering what he knew about the former management. Gently tugging on the meat in a crab claw, Wesley pulled it out in one piece. "The Los Angeles branch has recently come under new management; not quite connected to the rest of the corporation any longer."

Dana nodded, taking another bite of food. "One of your Los Angeles based clients seems to have taken an interest in the Sunnydale crater." She was studying him, looking for a reaction. Wesley tried not to give her one.

"Kir-Corp, I was made aware of them today at a staff meeting. Let me save us some time. If I'm not mistaken, you're in Los Angeles to investigate the deaths of two teenagers found near the crater." Wesley grimaced; he hadn't meant to be so blunt.

"Murders. They were definitely murdered. As a detective, when someone's murdered I have to ask-"

"Who has a motive. My clients don't. If they were going to use muscle to press this situation, why would they bother with the legal channels to secure their rights to the site?"

"Some people like to cover all their bases. For instance, sending someone to talk to the FBI investigators. Quite the coincidence that we ran into each other this morning." Carefully laying her silverware on the plate, Dana sat back and studied him.

Wesley felt like he had spent too much of his life under other people's scrutiny. "Yes, please do assume the absolute worst. Hell, assume that you investigated my dirty work earlier today. Meanwhile, all that I thought I was doing was talking up a pretty lady." Dejected, Wesley pushed his chair back a few inches.

"What do you know about the murders?"

"I know that there's a town of sorts at the Sunnydale crater populated by what has been referred to as modern hippies. Beyond that, all I know is human nature. Where there's opportunity, opportunists will show up and not all of them will be invested in peace and love. For instance, Kir-Corp isn't the only company interested in excavating Sunnydale." Wesley took a swallow of his wine.

"So, it's the other guys? You're clients are the good ones?"

Wesley laughed. "My clients are interested in getting a potentially valuable piece of land cheap. There was an entire city down there. I suspect they want to excavate it for every cent of salvage that it's worth."

"And that allays my suspicions, how?" Roughly folding her napkin, Dana tossed it on the table.

"Perhaps the question you should be asking is why Kir-Corp is providing things like trucks of drinking water and basic sanitation if they're interested in getting rid of the people on the edge of the crater." Tossing his napkin onto the table, he asked, "Shall I call for the check?"

***

It was raining when they were ready to leave the restaurant, which meant that Dana would have had to wait forever for a cab. She stood off to the side, feeling impatient and trying not to look at the end of the queue where Wesley's SUV was parked with Wesley was leaning against the passenger side with the door open.

Dana didn't know what his game was, but she knew enough not to play it. While she thought that she had done a good job calling him on it, Dana was ready to admit a tactical error in not waiting until after the entree to confront him. Currently her stomach was growling. She was definitely going to test out room service, if a cab ever showed up.

Glancing off to the side, she could see him watching her; like at any moment he expected she'd get tired and just climb into his car to fulfill his twisted sense of chivalry or perhaps just some other twisted agenda. Her phone rang, giving her an excuse to step away from the curb.

"Scully."

"Hi, it's Mulder. What's the news on Kir-Corp? Were you able to call the PI from the lawfirm?"

"I met up with him. I think he was going to try and milk me for information, but I beat him to it. Unfortunately, all I got out of him was confirmation that Kir-Corp is interested in the site and Wolfram & Hart are working for them."

"Not surprised. When we get back to DC, remind me to show you ol' W&H's folder. I'm spending the night up here."

Dana straightened up. "Mulder, all the hotels in Sunnydale are currently rubble."

"I've made arrangements for the night; I think you're getting the better end of the hotel situation."

"Uh-huh." Scully turned slightly and could see that Wesley was also on his cell, talking non-stop. He still looked hot. "Yeah, but it could have been better. Who are you with? Hopefully someone with an acid resistant suit."

"Don't worry, I've got it taken care of."

"Mulder, we don't know everything these people are up to, do you think it's really safe-"

"Night, Scully."

"Mulder!" It was too late, he had disconnected.

With an exasperated sigh she tucked the phone back into her purse just in time to see a well-dressed couple speed off in a cab.

"Hey! That was my cab!" Rushing to the curb, she waved at the retreating car to no avail.

"Agent Scully." Wesley was next to her.

"Did you just get rid of my cab?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Wesley frowned. "No. I suspect that the tip that the valet attendants are dividing up have something to do with your cab."

"What do you want?"

"I think everyone at the Sunnydale crater may be in danger."

Dana took a step closer into his personal space. "What the hell do you know?"

***

About fifteen minutes into the journey, Wesley pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and used his ring and index fingers to fish the gun out of its holster in the small of his back. Keeping his right hand on the steering wheel, he passed the gun over to Agent Scully who had her own weapon trained on him.

"Are we done now? May I continue driving?"

Closing the glove compartment door, she reholster her gun. "I think we can move on now."

Sitting back, Wesley reached for the gearshift.

"But, if I could ask for a favor." Dutifully, Wesley turned his head and looked at Dana. "Could we hit the drive-thru of a Double Meat Palace of something?"

***

The first hour of the trip involved the rustling of fast food wrappers and about a dozen cell phone messages to Agent Mulder. Wesley played the part of chauffer, discreetly ignoring the phone messages and the speed limit at the same time.

"If anything happens to him, I'm not stopping until you're in a federal prison."

When Wesley looked out of the corner of his eye, she was facing forward, watching the mile markers fly by.

"I know this is probably pointless, but I don't want anything to happen to your partner and I especially don't anything to happen to the people up there. You know, there are other... entities that might be taking an interest in Sunnydale besides my clients."

"Uh-huh." Patronizing, condescending.

Wesley jerked the steering wheel, sending them flying towards the center median and then just as quickly jerked it back. With one hand on the wheel he wrestled her for the gun, not that he was going to win one handed, but he could try to prevent her from getting a grip.

Slamming on the brakes, he turned fully in the seat, fighting for control of the gun, which went flying to the passenger side floor. Dana dove for the floor, but Wesley launched himself over the console pinning her to the door. For his trouble, he received a knee to the rips and the gearshift digging into his side. The SUV began to roll forward.

"Look-"

"Don't you think you should stop this thing?"

"I think you should listen to the part where I'm on your side."

"Why the hell is this so important to you? I found you out, figured out who you're working for, and do you know what the penalty is for assaulting a federal officer is?"

There was a small jolt as the car fell off the edge of the blacktop and onto the gravel a few inches down.

Wesley was looking into her angry green eyes and for a moment seeing another woman. They didn't look remotely alike, but Lilah would have appreciated Dana's spirit, the complete lack of fear in her eyes, even if they would have never agreed on a single question of morals or ethics. Had he seen that in the coffee shop, some vestige of a past relationship, a demon that he could not seem to be free of?

For a brief second, he thought of Dana as the "good" Lilah and then let her go, laughing. Pressing his foot to the brake, Wesley leaned back in the driver's seat. In the periphery, he could see her slowly sinking down, preparing to snatch up the gun.

"Don't bother, or make it easier on yourself, take the one from the glove compartment. Or here." Wesley reached down and pulled a smaller gun from his ankle holster.

"You're insane."

"Very possibly. You remind me of a former girlfriend." He deserved the look she gave him; he knew that. Wesley pulled out onto the road and accelerated. "If she were here, she would undoubtedly assure you that I was insane before she met me."

"Is this supposed to be comforting?"

Wesley looked at her momentarily before returning his eyes to the road. "No, it would be me whining."

"Ah." Dana picked up her soda and took a sip, slurping what must have been melted ice from the bottom of the cup. "I think I'm going to have bruises. Did things like that in any way contribute to her being your ex-girlfriend?"

"Well, truth be told..." Wesley glanced at Dana and immediately brought his eyes back to the road. "She died during the riots last year. I tried to save her and didn't. We couldn't bury her properly for a while."

"That's...that's hard."

"What I'm finding ironic is that she's probably laughing right now. All those things that you're sure I'm a part of, she would have happily admitted to and wondered why you were so upset."

"And you're on my side."

"Yes."

From the corner of his eye, Wesley could see that she wasn't convinced.

***

The encampment was on the far side of the crater. Driving across the open landscape was difficult going in the dark. Dana was fairly sure that Wesley was torturing her with every pothole along the dirt tract. They were still a good distance away from the road when Wesley pulled into a shallow canyon.

"What's-" she paused, spotting what he must have; flashes in the distance. Gunfire.

Wesley cracked open the window and the sounds became clearer.

"What did you find out about the victims--the teenaged boys?" Cutting the engine, he manually switched off the interior lights, so they wouldn't come on when the doors open.

Dana studied him for a moment, not sure any longer about what was the truth. "They were burned by acid."

"Localized? A target organ?" She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

"There was more damage to the head and face, but they were covered from head to toe."

"H'rekten." He opened the door and made his way to the cargo door.

"What's a Harktin?"

Dana got out, holstering her own gun and bringing both of his. Apparently that hadn't been necessary, because he was pulling out a shotgun and a high-powered hunting rifle, carefully checking both weapons.

"Think of them as a gang."

"Think of them as a gang. What are they really?"

Wesley handed her the rifle. "Think of them as a gang."

"You like to be prepared."

Wesley nodded, holstering the smaller guns. "Do you know anything about where your partner is?"

Dana let out a frustrated sigh, "I wish I did; generally, I'd like to avoid shooting him."

Wesley nodded, as he packed shotgun shells into his pockets. "I know what he looks like; you're not the only one that did research this afternoon."

"Wait a minute." Dana grabbed his hand half-way between the box of shells and his pocket. "You've been giving me crap all night about not being the bad guy, and now you tell me that you were out looking up information about my partner and me?"

"Yes." Wesley's face didn't hold amusement or irony or any other emotion. Pulling his arm out of her grasp, he turned and began climbing the canyon wall. "I did tell you that I was a detective."

Left with no other option, Dana followed. They made their way to the top of the ridge, peering into the distance. The moon was low and waning, providing them enough light to see shadows moving but not much beyond that. Laying flat against the dirt, Wesley picked up the rifle and pointed it in the directions of the combatants, using the sight like a telescope.

"I can definitely see humans at the encampment."

"That implies that you see something other than human attacking them."

Wesley looked up, and Dana saw him hesitate. "What if I told you there were things other than human attacking them? I suppose I'd just be called insane again."

No, it wasn't insanity that she saw in his face, but surety; the same kind she saw in Mulder's eyes most mornings over coffee. Sighing heavily, Dana looked up into the star-filled sky, begging God for a little patience, or permission to pummel him. "At least that's the kind of insanity I'm used to."

She held out her hands and Wesley passed the rifle. Lying on the ground, she could feel sharp rocks trying to dig into her belly; her suit would never be the same. "Looks like teenagers, the supposed hippies in the encampment." Slowly moving the barrel, she took in the makeshift defenses, which came complete with matching makeshift weapons. Catching the glint of someone familiar, she jerked the sight back. "Mulder, he's in the encampment. It looks like he's trying to get them organized in defensive positions; his weapon's drawn."

Almost reluctantly, she swung the barrel toward the desert. "Well _whomever_ they are, they're bipeds. I can't tell-" Turning around, she frowned at Wesley. "I can't tell what they're wearing."

"In the end, I wouldn't say it was important; assume it's armor and perhaps some kind of chemically resistant covering."

Dana sat bolt upright, and aimed the rifle beyond Wesley.

Looking her in the eye, without a glance behind him, Wesley smiled. "Unless I'm horribly mistaken, I believe those are my people that you're threatening.

"Coincidence?" Dana asked, holding the rifle on the newcomers.

"Not entirely. They were on their way when we left the restaurant; we were just closer." Turning his head, Wesley made introductions. "Angel, Spike and Fred, this is Agent Scully of the FBI." Each had nodded or waved as their name was called.

"What do we have?" Angel squatted next to Wesley.

Dana felt like stepping, asserting her authority as the ranking officer on this mission, but based on what little she could make out; she knew she would need some help.

"The encampment is full of the curiosity seekers and Agent Scully's partner. From what I could make out with the scope, they basically have pitchforks and are hiding behind hay bails. Where's Gunn?"

Angel glanced at Scully. "Contract negotiations with our client and the trespassers."

"Dry hay. Sounds like the perfect place to hide a flame throwing-"

"Gang member." Wesley interrupted Spike

Dana found herself wondering what Spike had planned on saying, but she had bigger issues like those people under fire. Shifting, she pointed out the attacker's general location. "Looks like the bad guys are out in that direction, well armed and wearing some kind of body armor.

Angel and Wesley exchanged a look. "My initial guess had been H'rektens, but they aren't ...wearing the right colors.

"What, they only have four legs?"

"What do you mean-" Dana started.

Fred daintily slugged Spike in the shoulder. "Just ignore him; we do. Gunn said he put money on the Ado Cooperative." She rose, closing the distance between herself and Wesley.

Dana could see him tense with every step. Fred had a small handful of what looked like dirt. She was shining a tiny Maglite at the contents of her hand. "Do you know what these are?"

And while Dana wanted to pay attention to the actual words coming out of Wesley's mouth, she found herself entirely focusing on his body language and tone of voice. He looked at her like she was the sun about to burn him, as he took a step back.

It was none of her business what the hell his social life was like because she just wasn't a part of it. Then Dana caught the glimmer of shiny black triangles, like the corners they used to hold pictures in albums. "I found those all over the burn victims."

Stepping forward, Dana took a few out of Fred's palm. "They were on the clothing and imbedded in the wounds. When I analyzed them, they came up as a sulfur byproduct."

Angel stepped up. "Sulfur as in fire and brimstone."

"No, more like a reaction with sulfuric acid." Dana could see Wesley was taking that all in, fitting the clues together. He was probably a good PI when he wasn't working for low-life law firms.

"Paj-urs," Spike said as he casually lounged against a boulder.

"Yes, it fits, except for the part where they're peaceful and tend to avoid people." Dropping the triangles back into Fred's hands, Wesley retreated a step further.

"Peaceful gang members?" A part of Dana wanted them to stop pretending that they were talking about gangs, but a larger part of her didn't want to know what they were talking about.

"Peaceful as long as you don't get in their way. They pack acid as a defensive weapon, practically in every pore. Ever see what happens when one gets shot?" Spike stood up, dusting off his jeans.

"No, what happens when one gets shot?" She stepped in front of Spike, forcing him to look at her. There was too much cryptic discourse going on for Dana's taste.

"Can we agree that anyone getting shot would be bad and move on?" Angel was up, restless prowling the perimeter and looking out into the desert

"All right. Let's do that. So if I'm getting this right, the Paj-urs," She turned to Wesley making sure that she got the name right. He nodded. "The Paj-urs aren't the problem; whoever's shooting them is.

"In a nutshell," Wesley agreed. "It would seem this situation requires back up." He tossed his keys at Dana, who caught them without thinking. "If you drive back to the highway, you should be able to call for help."

"That seems like a good idea," agreed Fred.

"Does it?" Dana stepped up to Wesley and put the keys back in his hand. "My partner is out there, and I'm going to go help him. I still have no idea what your agenda is, but if you are the good guys, you might want to help me."

"It's suicide to start walking towards that camp." Angel was looking out into the night as if he could see more than shadows in the darkness.

"Then I guess I'll just keep low." Not interested in any more conversation, Dana crouched down, and climbed back to the top of the embankment. She was only about five feet along when there was a scrambling in the trench behind her and a plaintive call of, 'Wesley.'

"You could stay with your friends." Dana said, not looking behind her as she made her way further along the rough terrain.

"They can take care of themselves." Wesley was up beside her, rifle slung across his back, shotgun in hand.

She stopped, trying to look into his shadowy face. "And you don't think I can?"

"On the contrary, I think you do quite well on your own. I just don't abandon my dates."

It made her smile and then look down at the ground, because she wasn't sure what emotion she'd find in his eyes. "Let's go."

***

They made their way from broken section of ground to boulder to dried streambed. At one point, Wesley caught the glint sweeping across the landscape. Moving without thinking, he was down on his back and clamping his fingers on the lapels of Dana's jacket, pulling her down with him. He hadn't expected her to land on him.

"What-"

"Sniper."

To say they were not moving wouldn't be completely accurate. Their limbs were immobile, but there was a steady rise and fall to their breathing, chests heaving and hearts pounding from the exertion and the danger. Wesley couldn't say he was disappointed.

"We won't make into the camp traveling overland." It was the truth; he wasn't sure she was ready to accept it.

The night became colder for a moment as Dana turned away and her breath no longer warming his face.

"Move away from the camp and come up through the crater?"

Wesley considered and nodded once. "That's an option. The other one I see is waiting for Angel to provide a distraction."

"No offense, but I don't know them. And, can I ask you, what the hell is that?"

Wesley turned his head, following her gaze. There was a creature, shaped like a medicine ball. "Would you believe a Paj-ur?"

"It looks like an anime creature."

"And much like something that follows the laws of cartoon physics, its body will explode if shot, sending acid everywhere."

"I really don't want to know about this."

"I often hear that with my job."

Dana was looking down at him again, and Wesley wished for other circumstances. They would be in similar positions with fewer articles of clothing. They wouldn't have to be anyplace particularly luxurious, just a blanket to tunnel under. Tunnel.

"There may be another option. As coincidence would have it, the Paj-urs tunnel under everything. They're attracted," Wesley hesitated; they were actually getting along, and he was loath to wreck it. "Let's say, that they were probably attracted to Sunnydale before it sank and now probably consider it prime breeding grounds."

"Okay, and that helps us how."

"How do you feel about tight dark spaces?"

***

They were crawling under a battlefield. About five minutes after she reluctantly followed Wesley into the tunnel, gunfire turned into heavier artillary. The ground shook, knocking dirt from the tunnel walls and making them choke.

"Keep moving forward; I think the tunnel collapsed behind me."

Not having to be told twice, Dana got up on her elbows and knees, crawling as fast as she could. Another rumbling and about twice as much dirt fell on them. She was sure that she was going to suffocate when a blast of fresh air hit her from the hole that formed above them.

"Come on," Dana shouted as she crawled rapidly towards the opening. "The there's a way out." Before she could move, several Paj-urs leapt up through the newly made hole for the surface.

"The tunnel collapsing may be the least of our problems if they hit a Paj-ur." The opening was about three feet up. Wesley gave Dana a leg up and she dug her nails into the packed dirt walls. Pulling herself out, she rolled onto her stomach, lying flat.

Another explosion happened, rocking the ground. "Christ! I didn't see canons or rocket launchers." Quickly Dana took the rifle and shotgun that Wesley handed up.

Then the smell of sulfur hit her.

"Wesley!" Her arm wrapped around his as she helped to pull him up and out. Rolling away from the hole, they were barely missed by the mini-explosion that filled the tunnel and the opening that they had just come up from. Hot acid landed on the dirt around them, scorching nearby plants.

***

Wesley found himself on the bottom again.

"Dana, are you all right, did you get hit with the acid?"

"Huh?"

Wesley wrapped put both his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him. "Did you get hit; are you burned?"

Her eyes focused on him, finally. "No. I'm okay. What about you, did the blast catch you?"

Wesley shook his head. Despite the gunfire and the urgency of the situation, they remained very still.

Moving one hand around her waist, Wesley stroked Dana's cheek with his fingers before he threaded them into her hair. The kiss wasn't electric; sparks did not fly, but it was good, bloody good.

Somewhat reluctantly, or at least, that's how Wesley saw it, Dana pulled away.

"We have to, we should... oh, screw it." Dana used her position on top by grabbing Wesley's face in both hands and kissing him long and hard. Or at least, that's how Wesley was seeing it. With a simple moan, she broke off, and pulled away, creeping along the ground towards the camp and taking advantage of the commotion

***

"Not as picturesque as say sunrise over the Great Kills landfill." Mulder, was standing behind Wesley, blocking the warmth of the first rays of sun from Wesley's back and casting a large shadow over what had once been Sunnydale.

Seated next to Wesley, Dana inclined her head towards him. "That's my partner, a hopeless romantic."

"After our trip up, I have no doubt that one day you'll succeed in dissuading him from that reckless course."

She punched Wesley in the arm.

"It's possible," said Mulder. "She's been working on it. But I have to say I'm jealous; she hasn't actually tried the technique that involves smearing lipstick onto my cheek."

Dana opened her mouth, fighting not to smile or grimace. Instead she stared at her shoes.

Mulder squatted down beside Dana, looking past her at Wesley. "I wanted to thank you guys for showing up. I'm not sure we would have made it without the back up. Not what I've been led to believe about Wolfram & Hart."

"Mulder, no interrogations before breakfast." Wesley could see her glancing sidelong at him. "Or until after the entree."

Wesley ignored Mulder and returned Dana's smile.

Mulder turned, looking momentarily into the sun. "I'm going to go check and see how the SWAT team is coming with processing the mercenaries. I figure we can leave in about ten minutes."

Dana was nodding her head as Mulder's footsteps retreated towards the makeshift village.

"What happened to your people? I saw them during the round up, but not for a while."

Wesley turned his head towards her. "Would you believe that Angel and Spike are vampires and needed to get out of the sun?"

Slowly she turned her head, looking at Wesley full on. With a shrug, she said, "Sure, why not."

They sat for a few minutes looking over the empty bowl. It seemed a little unreal to Wesley after all the time he had spent in the town that there was absolutely nothing left.

"We'll probably be heading back to Washington in a couple of days. Depends on the paperwork. It's a good thing that kid that Mulder sent out before the attack managed to get to a phone to call the police in. And uh, I'm sorry about thinking you were trying to milk me for information." Dana gently swung her feet as the dangled over the rim.

"Don't apologize; I know the reputation of the company I work for." Reaching over, Wesley took Dana's hand, turning it so he could see her wrist. "I'm sorry about the bruise."

"Don't be. I should have taken my partner's advice and tried to believe." Using her thumb, Dana wiped the lipstick from his cheek.

"I'm thinking or maybe hoping that cleaning my face like that might be premature." Wesley hadn't let go of her hand and used his thumb to caress hers.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I'm a federal officer, and I'm on duty." Dana smiled and for a moment, Wesley felt that karma was releasing him from his Sunnydale debts.

"Wesley!" Both Wesley and Dana turned to see Fred approaching them.

"Fred, you didn't go back with Angel and Spike?" Wesley felt every muscle in his back tense.

Fred stopped a couple of feet away. "I thought I could help, and I just wanted you to know that I was counting on you for a ride home."

Wesley looked down into the pit that was Sunnydale, feeling karma kick him in the nuts. "Of course."

"Oh, Agent Scully," Fred said.

Wesley turned to see Dana tense. "Yes?"

"Agent Mulder was saying he was ready to go."

Without looking at Wesley, Dana said, "Sure."

***

Dana tightened the belt of the hotel robe. Three pm. It was way too early. When they crawled into the hotel earlier, she had very specifically put out the 'do not disturb' sign. No matter what the clock said, it was way too early. This only meant that it must be Mulder standing outside her door. She didn't know what the hell he wanted, but she was thinking that she wanted to be back in bed.

Throwing t he locks, she pulled open the door. "What do you want?"

She didn't expect Wesley, and god, how rude had she just been.

"I'm sorry. I know you're probably tired. I just thought. Well, I suppose I didn't think."

"Is that coffee?" Dana took a deep breath catching the aroma of hazelnut.

"Uh, yes." Wesley passed her an oversized cup, steaming hot through the paper sleeve. "I had it in my head that yesterday didn't end as well as it began, and I..." He trailed off, looking at the floor.

Dana frowned. "How did you get my hotel room? They aren't supposed to give it out."

"I could tell you about my detective skills, but frankly, evil lawfirm. And I believe that that very fact became a wedge yesterday. I suppose that this was a bad idea."

He had shaved and showered and was looking very much like he had he previous morning. "You know, I think our problem came when we went out for dinner." Dana leaned against the doorframe, taking a sip from her coffee.

Wesley nodded, a faint smile coming to his face. "Things did seem smoother before we went to the restaurant."

Taking a step back, Dana opened the door a little wider. "I think that if we're going to try again, redo the day, maybe we should go with my plan."

Wesley stepped forward, so he definitely had a foot in the door. He leaned down far enough that Dana could smell the sweet coffee on his breath. "And your plan was?"

"Ordering dinner from room service." Smiling, Dana walked backwards into the dark room. "Room service for two."

Wesley checked the sign on the door, smiled and walked in.

~end~

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my beta; unfortunately I cannot find the any record of the beta. Please accept my apologies -- and let me know who you are so I can fix it.


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